


Lance's Moving Castle

by jar7172



Category: Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Howl's Moving Castle Fusion, Howl's Moving Castle AU, I'm back from the dead to write more Klance, M/M, Magic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-13 17:13:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21497626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jar7172/pseuds/jar7172
Summary: “Of course Lance is Howl, they’re both made out of drama and beauty products” -my friend when I mentioned this ideaThis fic is exactly what it looks like, Keith is Sophie and Lance is Howl and everyone else is a surprise! I'm going to blend aspects of the movie and the book because I love both dearly. I'm super excited about this project and I hope you like it!
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I'm back from the dead and better than ever, ready for more Klance Garbage! I'm on winter break and ready to write like a fiend, so let's do this!
> 
> I take some lines of dialogue directly from the book and movie, so let's hope this doesn't get flagged as plagiarism! I don't own any of these characters or ideas. Just the idea to blend them together.
> 
> Without further ado, I present to you: Lance's Moving Castle

In the land of Altea, where things such as seven-league boots and cloaks of invisibility really exist, it is quite the gamble to be born an only child. Everyone knows you are bound to succeed enormously or fail extravagantly; there is no middle ground for only children. Keith Kogane, it seemed, was doomed to the latter. Having lost his parents to a fire at a young age, he had been forced to apprentice at a local hat shop just for a place to stay. The shop was owned by the Shiroganes, a kind family with a son of their own who was a few years older than Keith himself. The Shiroganes paid Keith in lodging and meals rather than wages, and while they were kind to Keith, they were no replacement for his real parents. Though he liked them, and they were good to him, Keith still felt achingly alone.

Keith’s life with the Shiroganes had been quiet and peaceful for many years and he had eventually begun to feel that their son, who went by Shiro, was like a brother to him. Shiro, however, had recently disappeared without a trace; his parents believed that the Witch of the Waste killed him and stole his heart, and while Keith didn’t believe it for a second, he was devastated nonetheless.

In the wake of Shiro’s disappearance, he threw himself into his apprenticeship, making hats nearly every waking hour; he found the work meditative and mind-numbing in a blissful way that allowed him to think with his hands and not his brain. He talked aimlessly to the hats, telling them what sort of person may buy them one day. Funnily enough, word spread around town that many people who purchased hats from the Shirogane hat shop often found good fortune. The Shiroganes played it up, but Keith knew, as the one making the hats, that there was truly nothing special about them. Nevertheless, he talked to them as a way of keeping himself company, telling them all about the foolish rumors.

Despite feeling cooped up, it was better that Keith stay inside anyway, what with witches and wizards constantly out on the prowl. Since losing their own son, the Shiroganes had become increasingly protective over Keith, though it was unclear if their fear was that the Witch of the Waste would get him too or that he would seek out revenge upon her (which would undoubtedly go poorly, as he was no magic user). Not to mention the mysterious wizard who lived in the moving castle, which roamed the moors outside the city. He was rumored to eat the hearts of beautiful young girls, or to steal their souls. No one seemed able to agree on what exactly he did to them, only that it was horrible.

Keith, personally, didn’t fear for his safety. This new wizard was known for pursuing beautiful women, and as for the Witch of the Waste, she would have a difficult time getting to  _ his _ heart, to say the least. Keith certainly didn’t believe that the Witch of the Waste had stolen  _ Shiro’s  _ heart; he knew for certain that the young baker in Market Square had already done that. Perhaps Keith should pay Adam a visit and see if he had any idea what may have befallen Shiro. He rarely left the shop these days, simply due to listlessness rather than a desire to appease the Shiroganes, and some fresh air and a visit to the Market may do him some good. Not to mention the possibility of finding a lead on Shiro’s whereabouts.

Keith looked up from the hat he’d been trimming to see the darkening sky outside his window. Even though he did not fear magicians, he did fear getting to the shop after closing, and resigned himself to going tomorrow. The hat shop would be closed for May Day, but he doubted the bakery would be as it was right by where the main festival would take place. He would go then, he decided, and see what Adam knew.

~~~

Keith was woken the next day by the thunderous sounds of fireworks and the raucous cheers of crowds in the streets. He dressed quickly in a white shirt, grey vest, and black trousers before taming his hair into a low ponytail. On his way out the door, he grabbed his own hat, a simple dark straw one with a wide brim, to block out the bright summer sun.

As soon as he stepped outside, he was accosted by the sounds of crowds, the heat of the sun and too many people too close together, and the booming of fireworks firing above the city. In addition to the fireworks, the moving castle was alarmingly close to town, sporadically shooting blue flames out of its chimney as if joining in the festivities. Even though he wasn’t afraid of this mysterious new wizard, the castle’s proximity made Keith uneasy and he decided to take the long way to the bakery rather than walk closer to the looming structure.

Of course, Keith was unfamiliar with the long way around and found himself a little lost. He hadn’t lived in this city for very long, having grown up on the outskirts of it before the fire, and now that he lived here he rarely ventured out. He only really knew where the bakery was because Shiro had insisted on bringing him to meet Adam a few months prior to his disappearance. He thought it was around this corner….

Keith rounded the corner into a narrow alley and bumped into two imperial soldiers. He jumped. Keith may not fear wizards and witches, but he did fear bored, drunken soldiers on holiday. The two men turned to face him, crisp uniforms crinkling slightly as they moved.

“Hey, looks like a little mouse lost its way.” The first one said. He was really quite handsome, but he reeked of beer and his eyes were darkened by something sinister as they looked Keith up and down.

“No, I’m not lost,” Keith insisted, and even to himself it sounded like he was lying.

“This mouse looks thirsty,” the man said to his companion, ignoring Keith’s protests while never taking those dark eyes off of him. “Maybe we should take him for a cup of tea.” The second man moved to Keith’s other side, effectively cornering him against the wall between them. He had a long nose and a bushy moustache obscuring his mouth, but Keith could tell that he was grinning.

“My brother’s expecting me,” Keith tried lying again, but the soldiers still seemed not to hear him.

“He’s pretty cute for a mouse,” the second man said, leaning in. Keith was so overwhelmed by the stench of beer that his eyes watered. 

“How old are you anyway? You live around here?” The first one added, speaking increasingly eagerly.

“Leave me alone!” Keith yelled finally, backing up as much as he could with the two soldiers crowding him. It was taking him everything not to start swinging, but he knew the punishment for assaulting a soldier was steep. Not even the esteemed Shiroganes could get him out of that kind of trouble.

“See,” the first one said lightly, chuckling to his companion, “your moustache scares everyone off.” He didn’t back away.

“So? I think he’s even cuter when he’s scared.” The second one laughed, still far too close to Keith’s face for his liking.

Suddenly, Keith felt a light weight fall across his shoulders as a smooth voice said “there you are sweetheart, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Keith turned his head slightly and saw a tall, tanned man standing with his arm wrapped protectively around Keith’s shoulders. He had a white jacket with blue diamonds draped across his own shoulders and red gems dangling from his ears. His eyes, too, were a startling blue color, and the sunshine gleamed off of them brilliantly.

“Hey, hey we’re busy here!” The first man said, suddenly losing his falsely smooth demeanor as an ugly look contorted his face. Keith felt himself press slightly closer to the man who had just appeared, even though he was certain he’d never seen him before.

“Oh really?” The new man spoke, “it looked to me like the two of you were just leaving.” The hand resting on Keith’s shoulder gave a lazy, pointed gesture and the two men jumped to attention. With another lazy wave to the side, they turned and marched stiffly down the street, yelling protests as they went.

“So, where to?” The man asked smoothly. “I’ll be your escort this evening.” He hadn’t removed his arm from Keith’s shoulders.

“Oh, I’m just going to the bakery,” Keith was impressed that he managed to speak while staring directly into those mesmerizingly blue eyes. The eyes, most likely, of a wizard.

“Don’t be alarmed, but I’m being followed, try and act normal.” The man said, finally removing his arm from Keith’s shoulders and casually presenting it for Keith to hold. He obliged, and they started walking through the alley.

Keith felt that maybe he should say something, but he wasn’t sure he could get his vocal chords to work again.

Suddenly, he heard an odd, gelatinous noise from behind him. Before he could turn his head to look, the mysterious man said, “sorry, looks like you’re involved” so calmly that Keith almost wasn’t alarmed, until he saw dark forms oozing from the walls in front of them to block their way. Oddly enough, Keith noticed, they all had straw hats on. Before Keith could really process what was happening, the man made a sharp left, still holding Keith close, and muttered, “this way,” still all too calmly.

Keith tried to follow his lead and remain calm as well, but the dark, gooey forms were following them quickly. They were nearly running now, but more forms appeared before them, closing them in. The arm Keith had been holding wound around his waist and the tan man said excitedly “hold on” as they picked up speed, running straight towards the gelatinous forms. Keith squeezed his eyes shut as they were about to make contact and felt himself being pulled upwards by a gentle pressure against his waist and a soft wind under his feet. Instinctively, he pulled his knees to his chest as he opened his eyes and saw himself, still being held by the mysterious man, suspended in the air above the town, the dark monsters colliding with each other below them.

“Now, straighten your legs and start walking.” The man said encouragingly, adjusting his grip so he was holding both of Keith’s hands in his, but they were still standing (floating?) side by side. Keith did as he was told and gasped as the wind keeping him aloft continued to support him. The two walked side by side through the air as easily as if they were on the ground.

“See? Not so hard, is it?” The man said cheekily as they walked over a building. He laughed jauntily and said, “you are a natural.” Keith felt himself blush.

He recognized the square growing below them as they descended along the side of the roof, feet still touching nothing but air. They spun in the air and the man landed gracefully on a railing, placing Keith gently down on the balcony below him. 

“I’ll be sure to draw them off, but wait a bit before you go back outside.”

Keith could barely mutter “okay,” before the man threw his arm out with a flourish and leapt off the balcony, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared. Keith ran to the railing and leaned over the balcony to try and see him, but all he saw were couples dancing in the square below.

Keith stood there in shocked silence until Adam rushed upstairs a few minutes later calling his name.

“Keith!” He rushed forward and pulled Keith into a crushing hug, which surprised him almost as much as what had just happened. He’d only met Adam once before, and it had been months ago now.

“Adam,” He must have sounded surprised, because Adam released him so quickly he almost lost his balance.

“What’s going on, someone just told me you floated down onto our balcony!”

“So that did happen?” Keith muttered, glancing back out into the square. “It wasn’t a dream….”

“Keith, what’s going on?” I haven’t heard from you since Shiro disappeared, and-”

“Ah!” Keith exclaimed, cutting him off hurriedly, “ You said ‘disappeared,’ not ‘died.’ You don’t think he’s dead either!”

Adam hesitated. “I-I’m not sure… I hope he’s just missing. I’d take an endangered and traumatized fiance over a dead one any day.”

“Do you have any idea what happened?”

Adam shook his head. “He said he wanted to get out of that dusty shop, go explore somewhere. He said he’d be gone just an afternoon, I… I sent him off with some pastries. I heard he went with Matt Holt, and no one has seen either of them since.” Adam sighed and dropped his head into a hand. He looked so forlorn that Keith had the urge to put a hand on his shoulder, and decided that since they had just hugged, that wouldn’t be over the line.

Adam looked up expectantly when Keith’s hand met his shoulder. Shit, was he supposed to say something? 

Keith thought for a moment before replying, “you know Shiro better than that, he would never go behind your back. Whatever is keeping him away, it’s not his choice. He wouldn’t run away without the two of us with him.”

Adam smiled a small, sad smile. “I hope you’re right.” He seemed to compose himself, and his smile quickly morphed into something much more cheeky. “So tell me about that man you were seen flying in with.”

Keith laughed shyly, having hoped Adam forgot about that. Keith still needed time to process the whole thing. He recounted the events for Adam as best he could without worrying him, but Adam gasped several times throughout the tale anyway.

“He must have been a wizard then,” Adam said. “I’m surprised he didn’t eat your heart.”

“You seriously believe all that?”

“You seriously don’t?” Adam asked incredulously.

Keith shrugged. “I heard that wizards only eat the hearts of beautiful young girls, so I’m safe on all accounts.”

Adam protested awkwardly, but they really didn’t know each other very well. Keith had come here for a lead on Shiro, and now he had it. He excused himself and set off towards home, determinedly taking the short way this time, sticking to crowded streets and avoiding eye contact with any soldiers. He was far less afraid of the moving castle now that he had met a wizard firsthand, but the soldiers alarmed him twice as much as they had before. 

~~~

Keith returned to the shop without further incident and was relieved that the day’s excitement was over. While part of him longed for adventure, a greater part of him felt duty bound to complete his apprenticeship and inherit the shop in Shiro’s stead. Keith hadn’t been surprised to hear Adam’s explanation that Shiro had gone out looking for a small adventure, he had always felt cramped and confined by the hat shop. He had no desire to make hats his whole life, and he tried convincing Keith that they were both meant for greater things. Keith, however, felt bound to the shop as the Shiroganes had taken him in with no reward following his orphaning. He owed them a great debt, he knew. 

At least now he had more information about Shiro; he knew of the Holt family, and Mrs. Shirogane likely knew how to get a hold of them, as she was quite the town gossip. Keith couldn’t help but wonder how the Holts were holding up in the wake of Matt’s disappearance. He was fairly certain they had a daughter as well. He wondered if she felt the way he did.

Keith heard the bell above the door chime as the door swung open.

“That’s strange, I could have sworn I locked that door,” Keith muttered to himself as he turned to see the most gaudily glamorous woman he had ever seen in his life standing before him. She had long white hair that gleamed in the lamplight, a sharp nose, and eyes that seemed almost to glow. She was dressed in purple robes lined with furs, despite the warm summer night.

“Sorry ma’am, the shop’s closed.” He said in his best customer service voice. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but he felt a strange sort of energy from the woman. She looked like a powerful woman on a mission, but this feeling was beyond that. He could tell he needed to tread carefully.

“What a tacky shop, I’ve never seen such tacky little hats,” she muttered, ignoring him and looking around the room. Then, her eyes fixed on his and she said, “yet you’re by far the tackiest thing in here. Are you the one who makes these hats?”

Keith bristled, being careful to take a breath before replying as calmly as he could, “Yes, I am the one who makes the hats. And if you’re under the impression that they’re so tacky, then why did you bother to come in?” The last part definitely came out more angrily than Keith had intended, but this woman strolled into the Shirogane’s shop after closing only to insult it. What was her problem?

“I always bother when someone tries to set themselves up against the Witch of the Waste,” the woman stated cooly, sending icicles of dread spreading down Keith’s spine. “I’ve heard of you, young hatter, and I don’t care for your competition or your attitude. I came to put a stop to you. There!”

She waved a hand in a flinging motion towards Keith’s face, and he felt as though he were struck. He stumbled backwards and caught himself on a counter.

“You mean  _ you’re _ the Witch of the Waste?” Keith said, and his voice sounded odd with shock. He stood stiffly and did his best to face her fiercely.

“I am,” she stated matter-of-factly, “and let this teach you not to meddle with things that belong to me,”

“I don’t think I did, there must be some mistake,” Keith croaked. He ached all over, and he wondered what the witch had done to him. Fear pierced his chest as the woman smirked at him. Did she seem taller? Or did he feel shorter?

“No mistake,” the Witch of the Waste said with certainty before turning to walk out the door. She stopped halfway through and said over her shoulder, “the best part of that spell is you can’t tell anyone about it.”

The door swung closed behind her and the bell rang solemnly. Keith’s chest still felt tight from the fear the Witch’s presence had instilled in him. He rubbed his face in an attempt to relieve some of the stress and instead of his usual smooth skin, felt soft, leathery wrinkles beneath his fingers. He looked down at his hands and saw that they too were wrinkled and frail-looking.

Keith tried to run to the nearest mirror and found that the best he could manage was a sort of hurried hobble. The mirror showed him what he feared; he was himself, but perhaps 70 years older. 

Of course he would pick a fight with the Witch of the Waste, isn’t this exactly what the Shiroganes had been afraid of? Oh god, the Shiroganes. What would they think when they saw him? Would they even recognize him? Regardless, he was of no use to them as an apprentice at the ripe age of 90. They would kick him out for sure. And then where would he go?

_ Better to leave now _ , he thought,  _ spare them the trouble of kicking me out. _

Keith had always been a solution-focused, forward-thinking person. If he came up with a plan, he could think about that instead of dealing with his current situation. When his parents died, his plan had been to find an apprenticeship in the city, learn a trade and obtain free meals and housing in the meantime. Moving forward kept Keith safe from the pain of the present. It’s how he coped then, and it’s how he’d cope now. 

Keith walked to the kitchen, his footsteps heavy with effort, and prayed silently that the Shiroganes, hopefully asleep upstairs, wouldn’t wake up and investigate. He packed some apples, bread, and a wedge of cheese into a bag and left without looking back. Where he was going, he wasn’t sure. But he knew he had to leave that very night. 

Keith decided his best chance was to convince the Witch of the Waste that there had been a mistake, Keith wasn’t “competition” or whatever she had said, she must have him mixed up with another hat maker in the city. She’d have to believe him, he had no other options.

Well, where better to find the Witch of the Waste than in the Waste? Keith decided to head off in that direction and hope for the best. He’d started over once before, and if he had to he would do it again.

And with nothing but the clothes on his back and the food in his pack, he set off into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter: the Garrison Trio

As Keith walked, his back began to ache. He needed a cane to help him walk; just the thought of that made anger boil inside him. How dare the Witch of the Waste steal his youth? And for what? What had he done to her?

He wondered if this is what had happened to Shiro and Matt, but somehow he doubted the Witch of the Waste would use the same curse three times in so many months. She seemed a more creative type. Creative and cruel.

Lost in his own thoughts, Keith stumbled into a bush. He caught himself on a large branch that was protruding from the bush and managed to keep from falling over. He realized that if he could just get it lose, this stick would make a perfect, albeit makeshift, cane.

He tugged at it stiffly to test it, and found it quite stuck. He tugged with more fervor and his back cracked loudly. He grunted in frustration and continued fighting against the branch and his aging (or rather, aged) body. “You’re one stubborn branch,” He muttered, gritting his teeth and throwing his weight into pulling out the branch.

“You won’t get the best of this old man!” He exclaimed, giving one final great heave and freeing the branch. Except, it wasn’t a branch, it was the pole of a scarecrow, finely dressed with a top hat upon his head, which Keith realized with a start was an old turnip. The turnip that served as his head had a cut across where its nose would be, and a grotesque smile was plastered below it. Two black buttons represented eyes, and the way they seemed to follow him was unnerving. 

Keith dropped the pole in alarm and took a few steps backwards, but the scarecrow didn’t fall.

“How are you standing on your own like that?” He asked it, not expecting an answer and not getting one.

“You’re head’s a turnip,” he said, always one to notice the obvious. “I’ve always hated turnips, ever since I was little. Well, at least you’re not upside-down now. So long!”

Keith turned and walked away from the unnerving scarecrow, and he swore he could still feel its eyes boring into the back of his head.

He trudged on, back aching, following no particular path, until he felt he had to stop and rest. He sat on a protruding stone and took out some of his bread and cheese, grateful that he still had all his teeth.

What an odd thing to be grateful for when you’ve only been alive 20 years, but here he was: a 20 year old in a 90 year old body, on the run from his own affliction, eating a wedge of cheese and simply grateful to have teeth. He sighed to himself. What was he to do now? He ached terribly and was getting increasingly tired as it got darker. Is going to sleep at sundown a requirement for old people, or simply something they do by choice? Keith didn’t particularly fancy going to bed just yet, but his body seemed to want him to.

As he ate, he began to notice an odd huffing sound from the brush behind him. He heaved himself up off the wall with great effort and crawled into the brush on his bony knees. He was shocked to find a small dog tied tightly with a rope that was wound around a walking stick. The dog was hopelessly trapped and could barely move, but was thrashing with all its might in the available space. It had shaggy brown hair and a thin scar on its cheek, and Keith felt awfully sorry for it.

He tried to calm the dog down, but it only seemed more feral when it saw him. He eventually decided that, old as he was, there was only so much that could happen to him that could be worse than this curse. He braved a bite from the dog and grabbed his sewing scissors, which thankfully had been in his pocket when he’d been cursed, and began to cut at the rope at its neck. Once the dog realized what he was doing, it stilled and turned its head to give him access to the rope.  _ Odd _ , Keith thought, but didn’t question the action further.

It was slow work with the small scissors, but eventually the rope snapped and the dog burst forward, running off in the direction Keith had come from.

“There’s gratitude for you,” Keith grumbled, “but you left me a gift in spite of yourself.”

He tugged the stick free with ease, and found it to be a proper walking cane with a metal tip and a comfortable handle. He took a moment to be grateful for this stroke of luck, packed up his dinner, and carried on as the darkness grew heavier around him.

“Thats two encounters,” he muttered to himself, “and not a scrap of magical gratitude from either. These things always happen in threes though; I’m bound to have a third encounter soon. Let’s hope that one involves a place to stay.”

He carried on, but as the sun went down it became far colder on the moor. The wind bit into his skin no matter which direction Keith faced, and though the walking stick was a great help, he had been walking for hours and was extremely tired. He fantasized about a warm fire and a soft chair to settle into beside it, and feared wild animals lurking in the dark.

He huffed and puffed as he walked, and his joints ground together loudly. Gradually he realized that some of the puffing and grinding wasn’t coming from him at all. He looked over his shoulder and jumped; the moving castle was rumbling along towards him across the moor. Up close Keith could see that it moved surprisingly quickly.

“Well, why not?” He thought aloud. “He’s unlikely to want  _ my _ heart, especially while I’m like this.”

He waved his stick at the approaching castle and yelled, “Stop!” with all the might he could muster. The castle obligingly came to a rumbling halt, and Keith hobbled towards it quickly, locating a door and stumbling towards it.

As he neared the door, the castle started moving again (which Keith thought was quite rude of it) and he had to run to catch it. He leapt onto the landing with all of his 90 year old might and flung the door open, crashing into the castle. Not necessarily the entrance he had hoped to make, but it would do. He used his cane to help himself stand and found a pair of large, tan hands on his arms hauling him to his feet.

He looked up and met a pair of kind brown eyes, set in a tan face with a square jaw. The man looking down upon him had an orange headband on which contributed to the square look of him, along with a yellow shirt and green vest that was unbuttoned over a large torso. While the vest looked rather good unbuttoned, Keith was under the impression that it wouldn’t close if he tried. The large man waited until Keith was standing steadily before releasing him gently. 

“Hey there sir, can I help you?” He seemed confused, or maybe nervous, but Keith recognized a customer service voice when he heard one. That was interesting. 

“Are you the wizard who owns this castle?” Keith asked brazenly, looking around to take in the castle. He couldn’t imagine this kind-looking fellow eating anyone’s heart. Keith took in the filth of the castle with surprise, but then his eyes settled on a small blue fire over the large man’s shoulder with a soft armchair resting in front of it. He pushed past him eagerly and sank into the chair with a contented sigh.

“No, that would be my friend Lance. He’s out right now. I’m Hunk, we studied together at the Royal Garrison Academy of Magic. Can I help you with anything?” He asked again, a little more urgently. 

“No, I’ll need Lance, I’m afraid,” Keith lied to buy some time. He was really just here for the warm fire and a place to stay for the night.

“You’ll likely be waiting for him all night,” Hunk warned.

“That’s fine,” Keith mumbled, already drifting off.

Hunk made a noise that likely accompanied a shrug, and muttered “suit yourself.” He headed for the stairs and paused at the foot of them, calling a careful “goodnight, sir!” over his shoulder before heading up. 

Once he was alone, Keith noticed that inside the castle, there was no sign at all that it was moving.  _ It must be magic _ , he thought drearily, his eyes drooping closed as he basked in the warmth of the lovely blue fire. 

He noticed again that the inside of the castle was disgustingly dirty. The fire was burning in a bed of ash that seemed to have never been cleared out for as long as Keith looked like he’d been alive. There were spiderwebs in every corner, and not a single surface was clear. 

“One nice thing about being old,” Keith muttered to himself blearily, “is nothing frightens you.”

“I remember you, man, that is one bad curse.” Keith’s eyes shot open, but no one else seemed to be in the room. “Curses are tough, you’re gonna have a  _ very _ hard time getting rid of that one.”

Keith’s eyes settled on the fire, which now had eyes and a mouth and a  _ voice _ . “The fire spoke,” he said smartly. 

The fire thankfully ignored Keith’s astute observation and said instead “Let me guess, the curse won’t allow you to talk about it, right?”

“Are you Lance?”

“No, I’m an extremely powerful fire demon, named Calcifer.” Red fire spewed from his open mouth as he spoke. When it settled, he added, “My friends call me Blue.” 

“A fire demon,” Keith gasped, “you should be able to break my curse!” He felt something dangerously close to hope rising in his chest as he thought about being young again. The thought of not aching all over was so nice it nearly made him moan aloud.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Blue said, and Keith’s heart sunk. “Listen, if you can find a way to break the spell that’s on me, then I’ll break the spell that’s on you. Deal?”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “If you’re a demon then how do I know I can trust you? You promise to help me if I help you?”

“Ehhh I don’t know, buddy, demons don’t make promises.” Blue shrugged noncommittally.

“Alright then, I guess you’ll have to find someone else.” Keith said stubbornly, allowing his tired eyes to flutter closed.

“Come on, you should feel sorry for me!” Blue objected. “That spell keeps me stuck in this castle and Lance treats me like I’m his slave and burns me up. Keep the water hot, the rooms warm, the castle moving…. He’s a heartless man!”

Blue kept whining but Keith was quickly nodding off. His attention was brought back to Blue when he said “okay listen, if you can figure out how to break this thing I’m in with Lance, then you can break my spell. After that, I can easily break the spell that’s on you. You just have to stay here for about a month so I can study your curse, and you can figure out about the spell that’s on Lance and I. Then we’re both free!”

“Alright, it’s a deal.” Keith mumbled before promptly dozing off. 

Blue tried getting his attention but could not rouse him, no matter how hard he tried. “Some big help you’re gonna be,” Blue muttered bitterly.

~~~

Keith woke up to sunlight streaming across him, which was odd because he hadn’t noticed any windows on the outside of the castle.  _ Magic _ , he mused. He realized immediately upon waking up that he ached all over from walking all day, sleeping in an armchair, and being 90 years old, and jolted awake with fury towards the Witch of the Waste. Who did she think she was, showing up in people’s places of work and cursing them for no reason! The absurdity and audacity made Keith shake with rage. If he ever saw her again he’d kill her, or die trying.

He was quickly distracted from that train of thought by the sound of footsteps thundering down the stairs. Keith quickly pretended to be asleep again, and a voice said near his ear, “Hey, who’s this guy.”

Blue simply responded, “how should I know? He wandered in here from the Waste last night.”

The voice answered agitatedly, “The Waste? Could he be a wizard?”

“You seriously think I’d let another strange wizard in here?”

“Hey! I’m not all that strange!” The voice cracked with agitation, and maybe embarrassment. 

“I was talking about Lance” The fire answered flatly. 

Keith cracked an eye open to catch sight of a small figure clad in bright green trousers and an equally bright green vest which had been buttoned incorrectly, with red tights and a white undershirt underneath the garments giving the short figure the appearance of an elf. They had unruly brown hair that fanned out by the ears, and large spectacles on their face that made their amber eyes seem enormous compared to their otherwise small features. 

Keith started at the sound of a knock on the door; the same door, he noticed, that he had entered from the night before. Who else could possibly be coming in from the moor?

The green-clad person pulled a blue cloak free from the mess on the dining table and flung it around themselves as the pounding on the door continued. As they pulled the hood up, a beard sprung from their face as it aged about 30 years, but Keith was under the impression that, unlike his own curse, this spell was easily removed. 

“Standby,” the person said in a clearly altered masculine voice. They went to the door, which had a wheel next to it with four colors. The green color was selected at the moment, but when the figure turned the knob above the door handle, it changed to blue. When they opened the door, an official-looking man was standing there with a very official-looking notice in hand. 

“Good morning sir, how can I help you today?” The falsely masculine voice asked.

“Good morning, sir. Is the Great Wizard Jenkins present?”

“I’m afraid he’s out at the moment. How can I assist you?” The green person, now in the blue cloak, asked again.

Keith had fully stopped pretending to be asleep now, this was far too interesting to miss. For that was  _ certainly _ the door he had entered from last night, but that was  _ certainly not _ the Waste beyond it. Not to mention, who was Jenkins? How many wizards lived in this castle? Not to mention the fire demon, who…

_ Ah fuck _ .

_ Keith, _ he thought to himself,  _ you’re smarter than to make deals with demons, come on! What was that all about? _

Keith knew deep down that the answer was  _ desperation  _ with a small smattering of  _ fear that he’d lost 70 years of his life _ but he didn’t want to acknowledge that. Who would? Someone healthily emotionally adjusted, perhaps, but that certainly wasn’t Keith.

He realized as the door clicked closed that he had missed what the official-looking man had needed, but then the large man from the night before, ( _ Hunk _ , Keith remembered) came down the stairs and asked what had happened. Despite being about three times the size of the person in green, who had now removed the blue cloak and indeed returned to their prior age and appearance, Hunk had descended the stairs about three times quieter.

“What was that all about?”

“A royal invitation from the king to join the war. Ha! Good thing you and I never graduated from the Royal Garrison Academy and just copied Lance’s notes.

“Wait, so is  _ Lance _ Jenkins?”

“Holy crow!” The small one shouted, “I forgot you were here. Who are you again?”

“I’m Keith, I’m here to clean the castle,” he decided on the spot. “Blue hired me, he’s disgusted by how filthy the place is.”

It was true, and he knew he should say it. Surely, no one would oppose to his presence here if he made himself useful. That’s what he had learned at the hat shop, but no one here seemed to be in need of a non-magical hat. That left him with the other skills he had acquired during his apprenticeship: housework.

“Well, if Blue trusts him, I trust him.” Hunk shrugged. Blue sparked in agreement, and the green-clad figure nodded.

“I’m Pidge.” They said simply. It wasn’t rude, but wasn’t quite polite, either. Keith nodded back.

“Well,” Hunk said enthusiastically, “now that we’ve all met; who wants breakfast?”

Keith’s stomach growled loudly at the thought, and the other two laughed. He was famished from eating nothing but bread and cheese yesterday.

“We’ve got uh…” Hunk mumbled, opening the cabinets and looking around them. “Bread and cheese!”

“What about those eggs?” Keith asked, peering hopefully over Hunk’s shoulder, adding, “and that bacon! Do you have a kettle?”

Hunk sighed deeply, “Blue will only bow his head to let Lance cook, so when he’s out we have to make do.”

“We’ll see about that,” Keith muttered, pushing Hunk aside with surprising ease and grabbing the bacon and eggs with one hand and a frying pan with the other.

He marched over to Blue, who must have known what was coming because the flames sputtered as he protested. “No one but Lance can use me to cook! It’s demeaning, I’m a  _ fire demon _ for Crow’s Sake! I refuse to be exploited!”

“Blue, I’ve been wandering out all night, I’m 90 years old, and I’m hungry!” Keith announced loudly before leaning in and whispering “Perhaps you want a bucket of water on your head? Or maybe I should tell Lance about our little bargain!”

“Oh I should have  _ known _ letting you in here was a bad idea!” Blue growled before flaring once and bowing his head. Keith placed a skillet over the fire and cracked three eggs into it before adding three slices of bacon. “Here’s another curse: may all your bacon burn.” Blue muttered so only Keith could hear.

Keith couldn’t see it, but Hunk and Pidge exchanged awestruck glances behind his back. They had never seen Blue listen to anyone but Lance before, and they decided on the spot that Keith was not someone to be messed with despite his frail appearance.

Somewhere behind him, the door opened and closed, but Keith didn’t pay much mind.

“Hey Lance,” Hunk said weakly, and Keith whipped around.

He was stunned. Standing at the door, resting a guitar beside it, was the handsome wizard who had helped Keith on May Day. 

“Who on earth are you?” He asked, and Keith jumped. “And where have I seen you before?”

“I’m a total stranger,” Keith lied firmly. Their stint on May Day had been so brief, it may as well have been true.

Keith was in shock; the great wicked wizard who owned this castle was only about his age! Well, his real age. Or rather, the age he  _ should _ be. Who knew what his real age was now? He surely didn’t. Keith turned away from Lance to stop from going red and resumed cooking silently.

“He came in last night,” Hunk offered, “from the Waste.”

“He says he’s going to clean the place up,” Pidge added, skipping over to the fire, stealing a piece of bacon that was arguably undercooked, and munched on it loudly.

“How did he make Blue bend down?” He asked, sounding a little in awe himself.

“He bullied me!” Blue yelled, muffled by the frying pan but still clearly audible.

“Not just anybody could do that,” Lance said thoughtfully, eyeing Keith up and down. Keith pretended not to notice. “Are you sure we haven’t met before?”

“Positive.” Keith stated matter-of-factly, focusing wholeheartedly on the contents of the frying pan. 

Lance moved towards the hearth, gently taking the pan handle from Keith’s hands. “Blue doesn’t like anyone but me to cook on him,” he explained. “Pass me two more slices of bacon and six eggs, please.”

Keith obliged silently, and watched as Lance deftly cracked the eggs on the side of the hearth, poured the contents into the pan, and tossed the shells to Blue, who munched on them loudly and happily.

Pidge and Hunk went about clearing the table, which involved simply shoving the mess aside and allowing whatever clattered to the floor to stay there. As Lance moved to the table with the frying pan, Pidge held out four mismatched utensils, only one of which was a fork.

“Pick your fighter,” Pidge said, and though Keith didn’t quite understand, he got the idea. “You can only have one because the rest are dirty,” Pidge added as Keith took a rather grubby looking spoon.

“Seems I’ve got my work cut out for me,”

“Well, my friends,” Lance said, gathering everyone’s attention, “enjoy. Bon appetit!”

They all dug in: Hunk with gusto, Pidge like a ravenous dog, and Keith rather hesitantly. Lance ate while watching Keith rather contemplatively, and Keith again pretended not to notice. He refused to give the slightest impression that they had met before. Why, he wasn’t sure. Thankfully Lance changed the subject.

“Keith, why don’t you show us what you have in your pocket there?”

“Huh?” Keith reached into his presumably empty pocket and found a piece of red paper he hadn’t put there. “What is this?” Lance held out a hand for it, and Keith obligingly leaned over the table to hand it to him, but when Lance touched it, the paper sparked and they both dropped it. Markings etched themselves into the table where it landed, and Keith recoiled.

“Scorch marks!” Pidge exclaimed. “Lance, can you read them?”

“That is ancient sorcery, quite powerful too.”

“It’s from the Witch of the Waste?” Hunk asked nervously as Lance leaned over the markings inquisitively.

“You who swallowed a falling star, oh heartless man, your heart shall soon belong to me.” He read. “That can’t be good for the table.” He slowly wiped the marks from the table with his bare hands, Keith assumed using some type of magic, his hair floating around his face despite the still air in the room. 

“Oh, thank goodness it’s gone!” Hunk breathed a sigh of relief.

“The mark may be gone, but the spell is still there.” He stood, grabbing his plate as he went. “Excuse me, my friends, please continue your meal. Blue, move the castle sixty miles to the west. And while you’re at it, run some hot water for my bath.” He scraped the remainder of his food into the fire for Blue as he spoke, before disappearing up the stairs.

There was silence for a moment, before Pidge asked, “You’re not working for the Witch of the Waste, are you?”

“I would never work for that witch! She’s the one who-” Suddenly Keith felt as though his mouth were stuck shut, he tried fighting through it, but the magic was too strong. In frustration, he pounded his fists on the table, making the plates rattle. “If I ever get my hands on that witch I’m going to wring her ugly neck!”

Pidge and Hunk wore twin looks of astonishment and confusion, and quietly returned to their breakfasts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted a way to have both Michael from the book and Markle from the movie and settled on having Hunk as Michael and Pidge as Markle. I bet you can figure out who the other characters are pretty easily, let me know if you think you've got it! Also, it was fun having Lance say "who are you" to Keith this time. Because of that line, I did briefly consider having Keith be Howl, but while Keith has the hair for it, Lance has the flair for it. This just seemed right, ultimately. Please leave a comment and let me know how it's going and what you think! Thanks for reading :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith cleans the castle, Hunk and Pidge have secrets, and Lance has a tantrum

Keith decided all he could do to prevent being thrown out was to clean the castle like he said he was here to do. Keith knew it could take a week or more to clean the entire castle, filthy as it was, but that it may take longer than that for Blue to figure out how to break his curse. He realized he’d have to look like he was cleaning as hard as he could, but to somehow make it so he would have to redo things. He decided to tour the castle as he came up with a plan.

“Where’s the rest of the castle?” Keith asked Hunk and Pidge as he collected their breakfast dishes. “All I can find down here is the living room and the kitchen, but where’s the rest of it? Did Lance hide it with magic?”

They both laughed, and Keith felt himself sour very quickly. 

“This is the whole castle,” Hunk explained when he saw Keith’s face. “Except for three bedrooms and a washroom upstairs.”

“Lance and Blue built the castle together,” Pidge added, “Blue keeps it moving. The castle interior is Lance’s old home in Porthaven, that’s the only real part.”

Keith was confused, and when he was confused it often expressed itself as anger. “So what’s the point of that big ugly castle in the Waste? Just to terrify all the people of that nearby town?”

Pidge and Hunk exchanged curious looks. “No,” Hunk said carefully, turning back to Keith. “I suppose the castle really is in three places at once. Four, if you count the black wedge on the dial, but no one knows where that one goes except Lance.”

Keith must have still looked confused, because Pidge added, “Look, you came in from the Waste, didn’t you?” Keith nodded. “Then you know that we are, at least in some ways, there as well.”  
Keith must have still looked confused, because Pidge huffed and concluded, “It’s magic! You don’t need to understand it. Just accept it.”

“Well, do you understand it?” Keith asked sourly.

“Of course, but I’ve been studying magic.” They said matter-of-factly. Keith decided to let it go before his mood soured further, and set his mind to how to go about cleaning thoroughly and ineffectively at the same time. Somehow, the idea of making fake progress seemed more challenging than making real progress.

He decided to start with the floors, as they were bound to get dirty again as he continued cleaning. He ignored the ache in his bones as he bent to scrub them and focused instead on what he would do when he was young again. Beating the Witch of the Waste to a pulp was first on his list. Then he’d probably return to his search for Shiro, since he had already left the hat shop. They could return together as brothers and things could go back to the way they were. That thought warmed him enough to ease some of the pain in his joints as he worked. 

He supposed now that the Witch of the Waste could have gotten to Shiro, since she didn’t seem to actually be in the business of stealing hearts. After all, if she had cursed him, she could have cursed Shiro easily as well. He mused over this as he moved onto the fireplace, lifting the log a protesting Blue was clinging to and placing it aside so he could sweep the ashes out. 

“Keith, please, I’m going out!” Blue whined.

“Oh, you’re fine,” Keith scolded as he carried the ashes in a sack over to the door. He turned the knob to green and dumped the ashes out the door as the castle moved through the Waste, leaving a trail of ash behind them. Not only was this the easiest way to get rid of the ash, but Keith supposed it would help the grass grow as well. Behind him, he heard Blue give a shout, the cracking of a log, and a puff of smoke that sounded like a painful wheeze. He turned around to see Lance standing over the fireplace, holding a small, flickering flame in his hands. There appeared to be something at the center of the flame, some kind of core, but before Keith could get a good look, Lance blew life back into the fire demon and replaced him in the fireplace.

“I’d appreciate it,” he said pleasantly, turning to Keith, “if you wouldn’t torture my friend.”

Before Keith could respond, Lance swept past him and towards the door. He turned the knob to black, and disappeared into the darkness. When the door closed, the knob switched back to green of its own accord.

A little embarrassed, Keith went back to scrubbing the floor now that it was covered in ash. 

~~~

That night, as Keith settled down in the chair beside the still-disgruntled fire, Hunk appeared holding a folded up cot.

“We thought this might be more comfortable than the chair,” He explained as he unfolded it in a nook beneath the staircase. Pidge then entered the room with an armful of blankets and pillows that nearly obscured them from view; they looked like a mass of blankets with legs.

“Thank you,” Keith said, genuinely touched. He moved to try and help the two mages make the bed but they swatted him away.

They fussed over it for a minute or two, and when they stepped aside, the cot has been magicked into a small bed with a real mattress. They had laid the blankets and pillows down slightly untidily, but an effort had clearly been made to make the bed look nice. Pidge then handed him a bundle that appeared to be sleep clothes.

Keith was speechless. “Thank you,” he said again, and he hoped they knew how much he meant it.

They nodded in acknowledgment and set off up the stairs towards their own bedrooms, calling goodnight over their shoulders.

“Goodnight,” Keith called back softly, still eyeing the bed with wonder. He tested it gingerly with a hand and found it to be incredibly soft and comfortable. Maybe magic isn’t all bad, he thought as he changed as quickly as he could and settled into the fluffy bed.

That night, he dreamt that he was young again, flying over the Market Square in the arms of a handsome wizard, blue eyes twinkling in the sunlight and smile gleaming all on its own. 

When Lance arrived back at the castle late that night, he looked down upon the sleeping form beneath the stairs and saw a familiar young man, smiling softly in his sleep.

Lance smiled too, and went quietly up the stairs so as not to wake Keith sleeping below them.

~~~

With the first floor of the castle nearly spotless, Keith decided to make his way upstairs. As he marched up the stairs with his mop and bucket of water, Pidge darted around him and threw themselves in front of one of the doors.

“Whatever you don’t want me to clean, better hide it now!” Keith said far too cheekily. He found it easier to act this way now that he was old; manners didn’t seem quite as important anymore. 

“Save my room for last, okay!?” Pidge yelled before disappearing behind the door. Keith chuckled and decided to start with Hunk’s room. 

Hunk’s room was simple and relatively tidy, containing only a twin bed with yellow sheets and orange pillows, a small desk, a stout green dresser, and a window overlooking the Waste. It was raining there today, and Keith wondered if he would feel the rain in his bones were the castle really in the Waste; he’d heard old people gripe about that before. He felt rather spry today, however, and assumed that it must be sunny in Porthaven. Or maybe all the cleaning was giving him some energy. 

Regardless of where the energy was coming from, Keith decided not to waste it. He set to work dusting and mopping Hunk’s bedroom, and soon found a small box hidden underneath the bed. Curious, Keith peeke out the door to ensure no one was coming, and then cracked the box open to find a pile of letters. It appears Hunk has a sweetheart, Keith thought to himself as he closed the box, smiling. He dusted off the lid and replaced it under the bed where he had found it. 

Finished with Hunk’s room, Keith made his way to the door Pidge had been blocking, but at the sound of approaching footsteps, they poked their head out and frantically yelled, “Not ready! Not ready!”

Keith laughed and decided to try Lance’s room. He had seen Lance leave earlier this morning, so surely he’d be able to do some snooping in his room to determine something about his deal with Blue. The sooner he figured it out, the sooner Blue would turn him young again. 

He opened the door to find Lance leaning lazily against the doorframe with one hand, a lopsided grin spread across his face. “No you don’t,” Lance said pleasantly. “I like it dirty, thank you.”

Keith just stared at him. “Where did you come from? I saw you go out!”

“I meant you to,” Lance replied simply. “You’d already done your worst with Blue, it stood to reason you’d descend on our bedrooms today. And whatever Blue told you, I am a wizard, you know. Didn’t you think I could do magic?”

This somehow surprised Keith, but he was determined not to show it. “Everyone knows you’re a wizard, young man, but that doesn’t change the fact that this castle is the dirtiest place I’ve ever been in.”

He peeked past Lance’s arm to see the floor littered with trinkets and charms, a large four-post bed with drapings covered in dust, and a bookshelf cluttered with the oddest-looking books Keith had ever seen. He tried to peek out the window, but Lance adjusted his arm so his draping sleeve blocked his view.

“Uh-uh, don’t be nosy,”

“I’m not nosy!” Keith pouted indignantly.

“Yes you are nosy!” Lance replied cheerily. “Control yourself, your horrible cleanliness is victimizing us all,”

“But it’s a pigsty!” Keith protested.

“You must admit, I have the right to live in a pigsty if I want. Now go downstairs and find something else to do, please.” Lance never lost his pleasant demeanor, but Keith knew arguing with him would be a mistake. He huffed as he turned around and decided to attack Pidge’s room.

He flung open the door and announced, “I’m cleaning here whether you’re ready or not!”

Pidge startled, in the middle of pulling things off the wall. There were photos of two men and news articles about the Witch of the Waste pinned over a map with red string connecting different items. Pidge tried to cover the photos with their body, yelling something Keith couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears. One of the men in the photos was undoubtedly Shiro, and the other was Matthew Holt. Keith looked between the photo and Matt and Pidge and mentally smacked himself. How had he not seen it sooner? The two were practically identical!

“You’re Matt Holt’s sister,” Keith said, in shock. Pidge was looking for them too! He wasn’t the only one who believed they were still alive somewhere.

“Sibling.” They corrected, narrowing their eyes as if trying to glean some kind of information from Keith just by glaring at him. “How do you know Matt?”

“Sorry,” Keith corrected. Then answered, “I’m a family friend of the Shiroganes. Their son went missing with Matt a few months ago, didn’t he?”

“A family friend of the Shiroganes?” Pidge repeated inquisitively. It technically wasn’t a lie, so Keith nodded. “Okay then, Keith. Do you know anything about their disappearance?”

“Only that they were together when it happened. The Shiroganes blame the Witch of the Waste, but I didn’t believe it until she-” Keith again felt that he couldn’t speak, his lips glued shut by the magic forbidding him to speak of his curse. He had forgotten that component of it in his excitement. Someone else believed they were alive!

“Hmm,” Pidge considered, looking at Keith thoughtfully. “I suppose I’ve got nothing to hide from you then, Keith.” The way they emphasized his name made Keith nervous, but he swallowed his anxiety. Even if Pidge had known of him, there was no way to recognize him; they had never met before the castle, and he had aged 70 years anyway. Pidge turned and began placing articles and photos back onto their wall. 

Keith decided to ignore whatever had just happened and start cleaning.

~~~

After finishing cleaning Pidge’s room in tense silence, Keith finally faced the last, and likely the worst, room to clean: the washroom.

The bathtub and sink were stained all sorts of colors, magical beauty products covered every surface in the room, and the toilet, with its floral patterned seat, had a ring so dark it made Keith want to gag. He scrubbed until his back began to ache again, carefully replacing each product where he had found it after cleaning the surfaces they had been resting on. Lance tended to spend a lot of time in here, and if he didn’t want Keith snooping in his room, he certainly wouldn’t want him snooping through the bathroom, so of course that’s just what he did. 

He examined the names of each of the spells in search of one that may give some clue about Lance’s bond with Blue, or about whether or not he really stole the hearts of young girls. The more time spent here, the more Keith doubted Lance’s alleged wickedness. Maybe not all magic users were evil like the Witch of the Waste. Keith knew sometimes the King would order spells from Lance and other wizards, and the people of Porthaven and Kingsbury often called upon Lance as Jenkins and Pendragon, respectively, for magical assistance. Surely if he were evil he wouldn’t be making charms to keep ships safe or potions to aid the ill. 

But what was Lance doing all day while he was out if it wasn’t stealing hearts?

He left the bathroom, now thoroughly cleaned, to ask Blue about it when the knob on the door turned to black and Lance stepped through it, looking rather forlorn. 

“Anything to eat, Lance?” Keith offered, and Blue puffed smoke indignantly, but Keith ignored him.

“Not now, thanks. Blue, run some hot water for my bath.” Blue puffed again but it was followed by the unmistakable sound of running water from the bathroom upstairs. Lance turned to Keith and asked “you didn’t mess around with any of the potions in there, did you?”

“N-no,” Keith stuttered, surprised. Those bright blue eyes were clouded over and his mouth was pulled into a sour pout. This was the first time he had seen Lance anything worse than pleasantly perturbed, and it was unsettling. 

Lance disappeared into the bathroom without another word, and Hunk and Pidge appeared from upstairs. 

“I really hope you didn’t mess with the bathroom,” Pidge muttered, “It’s not going to be pretty if you did.”

“Oh calm down,” Keith huffed indignantly, “I put everything back where I found it!”

Keith settled by the fire to do some sewing since he had found some torn curtains and clothing as he cleaned around the house. He was making decent progress when Lance burst forth from the bathroom with a blue towel wrapped around his waist.

“KEITH!” He shouted as he pounded down the stairs, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?”

Keith started and jumped out of the chair. He found Lance standing over him, pulling at the skin on his face. Oddly, this was the first time Keith had noticed their height difference, made more dramatic by his own hunching, which had improved since working in the castle but was not completely gone.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Keith asked nervously.

Hunk and Pidge tip-toed tentatively towards the stairs to avoid getting caught in the crossfires that were bound to happen any moment now. 

“My skin! Look at my skin, Keith!”

Keith leaned in, holding his breath, and examined Lance’s tan skin. It was always clear and perfectly even-toned, but now there was a slight dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose and spilling onto his cheeks, just under his eyes.

“Are you talking about the freckles?”

“Don’t say the word, Keith!” Lance swooned dramatically into the chair, the towel sliding just a single, haphazard inch. 

“I think they look quite nice,” Keith offered, but Lance ignored him.

“I give up!” Lance cried. “What’s the point of living if I can’t be beautiful?”

Lance threw his head into his hands and curled into himself on the chair, wailing dramatically every few breaths.

“Hey now, it’s not so bad,” Keith tried to comfort him, placing a hand on his shoulder only to find it… sticky? Keith pulled his hand back and a length of green slime trailed from it. Lance was oozing green slime as his wailing continued, and Keith jumped back in alarm.

“Fine!” Keith yelled at the wailing wizard, “You think you’ve got it bad? I’ve never once been beautiful in my entire life!”

Lance only wailed in response.

“Oh god, is he dying!?” Hunk yelled from the staircase and Pidge covered their ears. 

“No, he’s not dying, he’s throwing a tantrum. Blue, run some hot water, Pidge, go prepare the bath please. Hunk, would you help me carry him up the stairs?”

Hunk and Keith pushed the chair to the foot of the stairs before hauling an unresponsive Lance up and draping an arm over each of their shoulders. 

“Come on, you big baby. You can still walk!” Keith grumbled through his teeth as he and Hunk all but pulled Lance up the stairs. He heard a wet sort of splat noise and looked behind him to see the blue towel lying on the steps behind them. Keith started and pointedly kept his eyes trained up towards the ceiling and away from Lance. 

When they got him to the bathroom, Pidge took one look at Lance, wrinkled their nose and said, “Hunk, this one’s yours, buddy.”

Hunk nodded an affirmative and shouldered Lance’s full weight, relieving Keith, and dragged him into the bathroom. There was a great splash as he presumably dropped Lance into the bathtub like dead weight. Hunk was careful and gentle for someone so large, though, and Keith had no doubts that he’d get Lance cleaned up properly. He looked to Pidge, who just seemed annoyed, and back to the trail of slime on the floor.

Keith sighed, “now I have to mop again.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this update took so long, life happened a lot but I'm still enjoying working on this project and will update when I can! Enjoy :) Drop a comment if you like it!

The next morning, Keith’s aches and pains were particularly distracting. He grumbled his way around the castle, muttering about curses and tantrums and stupid,  _ stupid _ wizards. Sometime after his bath, Lance had disclose to Hunk that he was upset about a romantic interest who was unsure about him. Evidently, Lance was unused to ambivalence, much less rejection. 

Pidge in turn assured Keith that as soon as this person confessed their love to Lance, he would move on. That’s always how it seemed to go, they explained. This only worsened Keith’s mood.

While Keith grumbled his way through making breakfast, he heard Lance singing in the bathroom to himself. It was a melody Keith had never heard, but even in his horrid mood he had to admit it was quite lovely, and that Lance was a decent singer.

_ He must have magicked his voice _ , Keith thought,  _ no one is naturally that talented, certainly not lazy, heartbreaking wizards like Lance. _

Keith needed a break from all this sorcery and weirdness, he decided. Perhaps a walk would help ease his sour mood and aching joints. The idea to visit Adam crossed his mind, and he pondered how Adam may react to seeing him under this curse. Would he even recognize him? They had only ever met twice now, and he had aged 70 years since then. Regardless, Adam deserved to know the new information he had on Shiro and Matt, that Pidge also believed they were alive.

Just as Keith made up his mind to leave for the day, Lance emerged from the washroom, scented steam pouring out around him. “Ah, Keith! There you are!” He smiled down at Keith as he walked closer, the blended scent of sea salt and sandalwood washing over him. How had Keith never noticed he smelled so good before?

Keith froze at the sudden attention; Lance’s brilliant smile was doing strange things to his chest. Thankfully, Lance didn’t seem to notice.

“As I was doing my usual skincare routine this morning, I couldn’t help but admire the freckles. I think they give me back some of my youth, don’t you think?” He tilted his head slightly to the side, still beaming, so that Keith could admire the freckles dusting his cheek.

Keith shook himself mentally. Lance was out to steal some young girl’s heart, Keith reminded himself, and his sour mood suddenly returned. “Cherish that youth while you have it,” He grumbled, practically feeling his hunching grow worse as he spoke. “One day you’ll blink and it will be long gone.”

Lance studied him closely, something awfully close to compassion in his eyes. “Is that what happened to you?”

Keith had a feeling his curse wouldn’t allow him to respond, so he simply shrugged and stepped away, out of range of Lance’s intoxicating smell. Lance’s bright eyes seemed to dim as Keith gained some distance between them, and Keith wondered if his brilliance was from some sort of proximity charm; anyone who got to close got caught in the spell.

Lance sighed and straightened, though Keith hadn’t even realized he had slumped. “Well, I’m off for the day. I left a spell for Hunk and Pidge to study on the workbench, see to it that they practice some, okay?” 

“Sure,” Keith replied. He could always tell them and  _ then _ leave to find Adam. 

He appraised Keith once more, eyeing him up and down. “I can give you something for your joint pain when I return tonight, if you wish.”

Keith thought for a moment, considering the wizard before him. Certainly it was safe to take a potion from Lance, Keith had seen townspeople in Porthaven and Kingsbury do so. He nodded once in thanks. Lance beamed at him in return as he turned the knob on the door to the black wedge on the dial. He opened the door and Keith peered past him curiously, but all he saw was inky darkness. It looked thick and heavy, and certainly not passable. But Lance gave a two fingered salute and breezed through the door, which shut of its own accord behind him, the knob turning back to green with a soft chime.

Just then, Pidge thundered down the stairs in their usual fashion, with the marked addition of a backpack about as large as they were. “Keith, I think I figured out a lead on my brother! I’m off to investigate, hold down the fort for me, will you? I’ll be back before nightfall. Probably.”

They grabbed what remained of a loaf of bread off the kitchen table and shoved one end into their mouth as they spoke, muffling their speech, though Keith had seen this enough times by now to understand them fine and be unperturbed by it.

Before Keith could respond, the human tornado that was Pidge Holt disappeared through the door leading to the Wastes in a flash of green.

Keith looked down at his wrinkled hands and felt the way his bones ached and growled in frustration. He should be out there with Pidge, searching for their brothers together, but in this ailing body Keith would only slow them down. He had to find a way to reverse this curse before he could help Shiro, but prioritizing himself had never been his strong suit.

“Well, you’re certainly in a mood today,” Blue commented from the hearth.

“You would be too, if you were trapped in a body 70 years too old!” Keith snapped. Supposedly because Blue already knew about the spell, Keith found he could discuss it with him so long as no one else was around.

“I’m an all-powerful fire demon trapped in a  _ hearth _ , how do you think  _ I  _ feel?” Blue retorted, crossing his arms and pouting (as much as an entity made entirely of flame can appear to pout, that is). “Have you made any progress in freeing me from Lance?”

Keith deflated at Blue’s words. He had been so wrapped up in the misery of being old and the surprising not-misery of living in the Moving Castle that he had been neglecting his deal with Blue. 

“Sorry, I’ll need a hint as to where to look,” Keith said, crossing his arms.

Blue huffed out some smoke in response. “Fine, keep your ears open, old man!”

“What? Can’t you just tell me the hint?”

“If I tell you it’s a hint, then that’s talking about it!”

Before Keith could answer, Hunk appeared at the bottom of the stairs. His clothes were freshly laundered and he was adjusting his headband nervously. He seemed not to have noticed Keith or Blue, nor showed any signs of having overheard their conspiratory conversation.

“Oh, hey Keith!” He startled when his eyes landed on him. “Didn’t see you there. Listen, I’ve got some, uhh… plans in the Market Square, I’ll be out for the day. If the boat captain shows up for his spell, it’s on the workstation clearly labeled.”

_ One of those days, I guess _ , Keith thought irritably as Hunk hurried past him towards the door, getting so far as to lay a hand on the knob before suddenly turning and clumsily scooping up a pair of seven-league boots from the coat closet. The boots were enormous, designed to fit over the wearer’s actual shoes so they could remove them when they no longer wished to travel seven leagues in a single step. Oh, how Keith wished he had possessed a pair of those when he’d run away from the hat shop, but they were very rare. Lance, of course, had two pairs, though Keith presumed he had made them himself.

Keith looked up from his ponderings when he heard the door close behind Hunk. He must have been really nervous; he usually gave a cheerful goodbye before he left, but he was evidently too anxious to get the words out today.

Keith thought of the letters he had found under Hunk’s bed and wondered if he was visiting his suspected sweetheart. Keith smiled softly to himself. Hunk was certainly prone to anxiety, but he must be quite fond of this person to be in such a state as this at the mere thought of seeing her.  _ Whoever she is, _ Keith mused,  _ she’s lucky to have caught the heart of someone like Hunk. _

Keith turned to Blue. “What will happen if I leave too? Will we all be locked out?”

“Lance can open the door himself, but I’ll open it for you, Hunk, or Pidge.”

Keith nodded in response, and turned towards the door.

“Wait, where are  _ you  _ going?” Blue lamented. “Are you really going to leave me alone for the day?”

“I need some air.” Keith offered in explanation as he laid his hand on the door, and Blue huffed at the brevity of it. 

When he turned the knob and opened the door, however, he was greeted by the familiar, grotesque smile of the scarecrow from the Waste. Keith started and slammed the door shut, leaning his back against it and sinking to the floor. His heart was racing in a way it never would have done before the curse.

“You alright there, old man?” Blue snarked, but Keith thought he heard a note of concern in his voice. 

“Yeah,” he panted, chest still heaving. “I think there’s a scarecrow following me. Ah, my heart-” he grimaced and clawed at his chest, as if that would alleviate the intense pain he felt.

Keith felt as if his chest were burning from his heart’s attempt to beat right out of it. Is this something all old people experience? Or was it an effect of the curse?

“Your heart?” Blue leaned out of the hearth to try and get a better look at Keith, who was still leaning against the door and clutching his chest.

“You wouldn’t understand, you young demon, you haven’t got a heart.” Keith attempted to deflect, not expecting Blue to protest.

“Yes I do! That glowy clump down in the coals.” Blue replied proudly, then he asked, “Scarecrow?” 

“Yeah,” Keith replied more steadily, still clutching his chest as the burn began to subside. “I ran into it the day I came here.”

“Him, I think.” Blue replied thoughtfully.

Before Keith could question what Blue meant, there was a rapping sound on the door as it shook against Keith’s back.

“Blue,  _ move! _ ” Keith yelled, his heart racing again.

“I don’t think--”

“I said  _ MOVE _ !”

“Alright, alright,” Blue sighed. “I don’t think he means to hurt you, but if you’re  _ that _ scared-”

“I’m  _ not _ scared,” Keith huffed, crossing his arms and finally standing up. To prove it, he turned on his heel and flung open the door.

Turnip Head was still standing there, swaying softly in the wind, blank button eyes staring directly at Keith. “Well,” Keith prompted a tad aggressively, “what do you want with me!”

Turnip Head remained silent, but bounced once in place.

Blue let out a huff of smoke and muttered, “a true love curse? How cliche.”

“Huh?” Keith turned the Blue, and though he did not see it, Turnip Head leant to one side to see past him into the castle.

“A kiss from his true love will break the curse, but who knows who that could be.” Blue explained as if it should have been obvious.

Keith turned back to the scarecrow and examined him anew. Turnip Head dutifully straightened and stood still so Keith could study him.

“Well, he doesn’t look familiar to me,” Keith mumbled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, and though the scarecrow didn’t have the ability to appear sad, Keith could sense that this news upset him. “I’m sorry friend,” he added.

Turnip Head hopped once in place, then once more while turning in midair, and hopped off into the distance.

Keith watched him go and felt sad, though he wasn’t quite sure why.

“You sure you don’t know him?” Blue asked.

“I don’t think so, but even if I did, I’m not his true love. I’ve never been in love before.”

“Before?” Keith could swear he heard some teasing in Blue’s voice, and he huffed indignantly in response.

“I’ve never been in love, period!” Blue crackled in amusement as Keith crossed his arms and huffed again. “Whatever, I’m going for a walk. Can you drop me off closer to town?”

Blue muttered under his breath something about bossy old men, but moved the castle closer to town anyway. Keith closed the door as they began moving and immediately all sense of motion within the castle ceased. 

They sat in comfortable silence as Keith watched the moor pass by through the window. After a few minutes, he said, “That should be close enough, Blue. I don’t want to terrify the townspeople.”

“Oh yeah,” Blue mused, “This is the town where they think Lance eats hearts, right?”

“Excuse me?” Keith, for what felt like the millionth time today, felt his mood sour instantly.

“People were getting a little too bold, trying to investigate the castle too often, so Lance asked Hunk to go into town and spread a nasty rumor about him. It worked, didn’t it?  _ You  _ certainly seemed to believe it!” Blue added the last part with a little too much glee for Keith’s liking.

Keith huffed indignantly. “I didn’t  _ really _ believe it!” He protested, but Blue just laughed as the door swung open for him.

“Enjoy your walk!” Blue called after him as he left, still angry about having been lied to. It did make sense though; in his time at the castle, Keith had seen no signs of bloody murders having taken place there, and while Lance was certainly capable of breaking hearts, he didn’t seem to eat much more than what Keith had been cooking for him. 

“Stupid, lying wizard,” Keith muttered to himself as he walked into town. He saw the soldiers milling about and still felt tension seize his chest before he remembered that he seemed 70 years older than them now. They may offer to help him cross a road, but they were very unlikely to try and hit on him again. Regardless, he sighed in relief as he passed a group of them undisturbed.

He passed by the hat shop out of curiosity and found it closed and, when he peered through the windows, surprisingly empty. Half-filled boxes were scattered around the shop, and all the hat stands were empty.

_ They must be closing _ , Keith realized, and his heart sank. He hoped the Shiroganes were okay. He wondered briefly how they had taken his sudden disappearance. Surely not as hard as they had taken the disappearance of their own son, but maybe they missed him too, a little. He certainly missed them. Though he had to admit, he quite enjoyed living in the castle, and was coming to think of the inhabitants there as another found family of sorts.

He loved Hunk’s softness and endless kindness, and Pidge’s brash curiosity. Blue’s presence, and even his snark, was also an odd comfort. And Lance, well… Lance was a mystery, but one Keith found he desperately wanted to unravel.

He shook himself mentally. What was that?  _ You’re ninety, _ Keith reminded himself harshly,  _ and Lance is currently out pursuing some beautiful girl who’s probably magical and way more interesting than you, who is a ninety year old man. Even before you were old you weren’t all that interesting. Certainly not interesting enough for an adventurous wizard who sings and plays guitar and likes  _ women _ . _

“Excuse me, sir! Are you alright?”

Keith turned around to see his old neighbor, James, hailing him from down the sidewalk. He was handsome, hotheaded, and young, about the age Keith should have been. He had always stared at Keith a little too long, and while Keith liked the attention, he had never much cared for James. As he approached, however, there was no sign of recognition on his face, and Keith wasn’t sure if that was disheartening or relieving. 

“What happened to the Shiroganes?” Keith asked abruptly as James stopped before him.

“Well, didn’t you hear? Their sons disappeared. Rumor has it the Witch of the Waste killed them both. She got Shiro about a year ago and returned for his brother a few months later. They’ve closed up shop since then and they’re moving out to the country.”

“Their… sons?” Keith was shocked to hear himself referred to in that way, the Shiroganes had never called him that before. At least, never to him.

“Yeah, they took in an orphan years ago, but you’d never know he wasn’t really theirs. Broody guy, he always was, but he and Shiro got on like real brothers. It’s a shame they’re dead, honestly.” He sighed, looking into the dark windows of the hat shop with an expression on his face dangerously close to sadness.

Fighting the emotion welling in his eyes, Keith cleared his throat and replied, “Thank you.”

“Huh?” James replied, clearly confused by Keith’s emotional response.

Without elaborating, Keith turned and walked away from the old hat shop in the direction of the bakery, ignoring Jame’s protests behind him. Taking comfort in the fact that he was old, he took the short route despite the crowds milling about. He feared he may get lost taking the longer, less busy route as last time he had attempted it, Lance had swept in and flown him to his destination.

~~~

The bakery was busy as usual, but as Keith waited in line he heard a familiar voice over the white noise of conversations.

“Thanks for taking your lunch break to see me,” Someone who was undeniably Hunk was saying. “And for the free pastries, I’ll be sure to take these back to the ca- uh, house!” He covered up his near slip-up with a cough, but the woman didn’t seem to notice.

Keith turned to see Hunk and a vaguely familiar woman leaning over a small table with their clasped hands resting upon it. There were empty plates and glasses suggesting they had dined together. The woman smiled and replied “Thank you for visiting me at work. It’s always nice to see a friendly face.” She had a soft but clear voice and a shy, beautiful smile. When she stood, Keith recognized her uniform and realized that she worked here, too. He had seen her here the day he visited Adam, though they hadn’t spoken.

Just then, a hand clasped his shoulder. Keith whirled around and found himself face to face with a wide-eyed Adam.

“Keith?” He breathed, like he couldn’t believe his eyes. Keith nodded once in response, too shocked that he’d been immediately recognized to even reply. Then Adam called over his shoulder to no one in particular, “I’m taking my break now!”

He dragged Keith by the wrist to the storage room and slammed the door behind himself.

“Adam, I-” Keith tried to explain but was immediately cut off.

“Keith, what  _ happened _ to you?” Adam began pacing agitatedly and waving his arms, “Where have you been? The Shiroganes said no one’s seen you since you visited me. I thought maybe that wizard-”

“Adam,” Keith tried again, and this time he stopped talking. Hesitantly, Keith continued. “I can’t explain what happened to me, but it wasn’t La- that wizard.” Adam raised an eyebrow in question but Keith ignored him. “Listen, I found Matt Holt’s sibling, they think Shiro and Matt are alive as well, and they’re looking for them!”

“Keith,”

“We’ll find him, Adam, I know we will.”

Adam sighed, dropping his head for a moment before abruptly pulling Keith into a tight hug.

“I thought you were dead,” He said into Keith’s shoulder, “I thought you went after him and… and then you show up at the bakery looking like you’re a hundred, and all you want to tell me about is Shiro?” He pulled back but still held Keith by the shoulders, as if he were afraid to let go.

“I didn’t think you’d….” Keith didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t have to.

“Care?” Adam said, his voice dripping with sadness and his eyes full of pity. Keith averted his gaze. “Keith, the Shiroganes have been looking everywhere for you. We all thought you went after the Witch of the Waste, they searched for months before they gave up. We all care about you, we-”

Keith pulled himself free of Adam’s grasp, which hadn’t tightened at all but somehow began to feel suffocating. “I have to go.”

“Keith-”

“I’m going to find him, Adam, I promise.”

“Keith, wait!”

Keith hurried out of the storage room and quickly melted into the bakery crowd, weaving his way through until he made it outside. He gasped in the fresh air in relief, slumping against the painted brick of the bakery walls. Coming here had been a mistake, visiting the hat shop had been a mistake, he should have-

“Keith?”

Keith looked up to see Hunk, standing comically on one foot while the other was raised and half inside a seven-league boot.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, blushing furiously and removing his foot from the boot and placing it back on the ground. He trotted over to Keith, boots in hand, and looked nervously between him and something (or, likely, some _ one _ ) through the bakery window.

“I was here visiting an old friend,” Keith supplied, deciding there was no point in lying.

“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

Keith couldn’t help but laugh.  _ It was Adam who had seen a ghost _ , he thought to himself. 

“Nevermind that. You’ll understand when you’re old.” He decided it was time to deflect and steer the conversation towards one that was likely to distract Hunk. “So, who’s the girl I saw you with?”

Hunk’s blush immediately deepened and spread to his ears. “Oh, um… that’s Shay, I met her when Lance sent me to town one time to deter the townspeople from investigating the castle. You know that rumor that he eats hearts?” Hunk couldn’t help but laugh a little, and Keith felt himself immediately frown.

“Yes, I’m familiar.” He grumbled, but Hunk didn’t seem to notice.

“Well, spreading rumors makes you hungry, you know? So I stopped in this bakery for a little post-rumor-spreading snack and met Shay.” He blushed again. “I visit her when I can, but Lance keeps me pretty busy. She doesn’t know I live with a wizard or can do magic or anything, and Lance doesn’t know about her, and….” He trailed off, wringing his hands nervously.

“I won’t tell a soul, Hunk.” Keith reassured him, and Hunk exhaled and slumped in relief. Then he straightened and looked at Keith inquisitively for a moment.

“What?” Keith asked defensively.

“You know, lately Shay has been talking a lot about a certain coworker. She’s worried about him, says his fiance and his fiance’s brother went missing recently.”

Keith tried to keep a straight face but, well, that had never been his strong suit. “Y-yeah?” He said, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

Hunk leaned tapped his chin thoughtfully, trying and failing to suppress a cheeky smile and asked, “You know what the brother’s name is?”

Keith shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. His mouth was dry and his palms were sweaty despite the cool breeze drifting through the square.

“Keith.” Hunk said simply, looking down at him with a knowing look.

“Nice to know my name is still popular in younger generations,” Keith replied as steadily as possible. Then he shrugged, and added, “It’s a shame the boy’s missing though. I hope he’s alright.”

“Hmm…” Hunk rubbed his chin and leaned in, studying the man before him, but Keith held his ground. “Who did you say you were visiting here?”

“I didn’t.” Keith answered. “Let’s head home then, shall we?”

Begrudgingly, Hunk nodded and offered to carry Keith on his back while he used the seven-league boots to get out to the moor where Blue could pick them up. Keith found it a little humiliating but ultimately agreed so long as no one saw them. Hunk carefully slipped into the seven-league boots and then crouched so Keith could climb onto his back.

Once they were settled, Hunk took a single step that sent the world flying past them. Keith’s vision blurred as he moved seven leagues in one moment, and suddenly came back into focus with them standing on the moor, the wind rustling the grass softly. The castle was visible in the distance and appeared to be stationary. 

Hunk crouched again so Keith could slide down and then stepped out of the seven-league boots. As soon as Keith opened his mouth to complain to Hunk that they were still too far, a pillar of smoke rose from the chimney and the castle began to move, approaching steadily. 

Keith smiled and waved a hand jovially at the castle as it neared, in spite of himself. He wasn’t sure when he had started thinking of the Castle as home and of its inhabitants as family, but he couldn’t say he was displeased by that turn of events. 

~~~

The Castle settled in front of them, billowing steam and smoke, and the door swung open to allow them inside. Blue greeted them when they entered and then settled deep into the hearth, presumably sleeping. The coals burned rosy and low, pulsing steadily. Keith again pondered what Blue had meant about having a heart and debated asking Hunk, but it left his mind entirely when he turned to find him humming to himself as he sliced vegetables and onions for supper.

“You cook?” Keith asked, surprised. He thought no one but Lance was allowed to cook on Blue.

“Oh yeah, I love cooking! Did it all the time before I moved here. Blue still won’t let me cook on him, but Lance loves my cooking so he’ll let me meal prep when he plans on being home for dinner.” He shrugged, “it’s not ideal, but it works. Plus, today’s a special occasion! Shay told me she likes me, man, I could sing I’m so thrilled!”

Keith laughed as magical sparks flew off Hunk in his excitement, “Well, why don’t you?”

Hunk blushed shyly, “Oh, I’m no singer,”

“Just magic your voice the way Lance does,” Keith suggested as he threw an extra log onto the fire for Blue when he woke up.

“What?” Hunk laughed a little, “Lance’s voice isn’t magic, he’s just talented, man. It’s all the singing in the shower, I think. He says it expands his range, or something.” Hunk shrugged again and returned to his chopping absentmindedly.

Before Keith could pick his jaw up off the floor, the door chimed as Lance himself swept inside.

“I’ll need someone to blacken my name to the king!” He announced, dramatically flopping into the armchair in front of the fire and propping his feet up on the hearth.

Blue emerged then, evidently awoken by Lance’s dramatics. “Why?” He asked grumpily through a yawn.

Lance sighed, “He’s summoned me for another spell, at this rate he’ll try and make me the royal magician!”

“And that would be bad… because?” Keith questioned, and Lance gasped at the audacity.

“I’m fine with selling the occasional spell to make some money, but I’m no one’s pocket mage. What’s the point of being a wizard just to be the king’s lapdog?”

Blue suddenly perked up, eyes on the door. It swung open, presumably at his will, and there stood Pidge with a large dog in their arms.

“What’s that you said about a lapdog?” Hunk asked, a hint of laughter in his voice. 

Lance stood and glided over to Pidge as they entered, door closing on its own behind them. “What have you got here, Pidgeon?” Lance implored, leaning in to examine the dog.

“My search for Matt came to a dead end at this guy,” they said, dropping the dog gently. Oddly, he didn’t seem to want to explore; he stayed close to Pidge’s side, examining the other Castle inhabitants warily. “I figured, he must be some sort of clue, but I’m not sure what to make of him.”

“Seems like we’re taking in quite a few strays, these days!” Lance announced merrily, straightening and tossing Keith a wink over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Keith protested, marching up to Lance, “I pull my weight around here!”

Lance laughed and tossed an arm carelessly over his shoulders. “No one said you didn’t. Now, friends, let’s eat, shall we?”


End file.
